Vienna Nights
by SoapyMech
Summary: A short little story. Please don't hesitate to comment!    Vienna, 1953. Canada gets wind of a valuable piece of intelligence from behind the Iron Curtain.    Rated M for violence and nudity.


Authors Note:  
><em>This was just a short little thing I typed up, the begining and end were the parts I really wanted to write. And if you don't get the allusion I'm making in the last little part, you really need to play Metal Gear Solid 3... either way, read enjoy and please, please comment.<em>

1953

Vienna, Austria.

Somewhere in the British Occupation Zone

It was raining. The kind of rain that made a person want to close themselves inside their home with a warm drink, a roaring fire and a good book. Sheets of rain poured down from the dark sky, with an endless splash as they fell onto puddles, or the crashing as it ran down into the sewers.

This was the night Canada was looking for. He knew no one would be around, no one would disturb him, no one would interrupt his plan.

This is what he wanted.

So Canada walked down the empty streets, his only protection from the rain being the long trench coat that covered him, and the wide brimmed fedora which sat on his head. Both were already thoroughly soaked by the time he reached the alley he was walking to.

He took a look at the storefronts that sat on both sides of the alleyway. A bookstore and a piano shop, just where he was told to go.

Canada slipped his hand into his pocket, and flipped the safety off of his Browning pistol. Slowly, he walked into the alley, gripping the pistol in his pocket, and carefully keeping an eye out for trouble.

As he passed a dark door way, he suddenly felt the barrel of a pistol pressed up behind his ear, punctuated with the distinctive sound of a pistol hammer being cocked.

"I've heard beavers make solid dams." A woman's voice said.  
>"Not a solid as steeps in winter." Canada replied.<p>

Canada felt the barrel being pulled away, and he turned to see a woman, with dark sunglasses covering her eyes and a headscarf tied under her chin. Canada took a hold of the pistol in her hands and lifted it up to take a closer look.

"This must be a Makarov. Haven't had the chance to see one up close." Canada said, admiring the handgun.  
>"You've got a good eye, most people mistake it for a PPK." The woman said, slipping the pistol into her pocket. "Are you still using that Hi-Powered?"<br>"I prefer it. It might not have the concealment of a PPK, but I like the extra punch it packs." Canada replied. "So, why did you need to talk to me here? You know how risky it is for us to meet like this," he slipped the sunglasses off the woman's face, "Ukraine."

Ukraine slipped her arms around Canada and pulled him closer. Canada wrapped his arms around her and gently pressed her head into his chest.

"I needed to talk to you, and we haven't been able to see each other like this in such a long time." Ukraine replied.  
>"So what is it?" Canada asked.<p>

Ukraine lifted her head and rested it on Canada's shoulder.

"A few weeks ago," she whispered into his ear, "One of Russia's generals disappeared, along with set of files."  
>"Go on." Canada said, gently running his hand down her back.<br>"We lost track of him, but apparently he's resurfaced in Vienna. Russia sent me to try and find out where he, and the files are, and try to bring him back to Moscow."  
>"So, why are you telling <em>me<em> this?"  
>"Because, the files he stole contained deployment areas of Russia's new TU-16 jet powered bombers, specifically, ones being deployed nearest to the arctic circle."<br>"Jet powered bombers? Has he deployed any of them yet?"  
>"No. They're still in production. As far as I can tell they won't be in frontline service until sometime next year, but I don't know for sure."<br>"So, why's this general in Vienna then?"  
>"From what I can tell, he's hoping to meet up with the CIA and defect, using the deployment plans as a gift for his new hosts."<br>"Do you know where he's meeting them?"  
>"No. Have no idea. I don't even know where this general is in Vienna."<p>

Canada slipped off one of his gloves and pressed his bare hand on to Ukraine's cheek. She happily felt the warmth and moaned softly.

"This is a big risk you're taking here, Ukraine. If Russia finds out..."  
>"Russia won't find out. He doesn't suspect me at all."<p>

She looked up into his eyes, and rubbed her nose against his.

"So, what are you going to do?" Ukraine asked.  
>"I think the less you know the better in this case. But don't worry, I've got an idea."<br>"I didn't mean about the General," Ukraine said, putting her mouth closer to Canada's, "what are you going to do right now?"

Canada pressed his lips against Ukraine's, and for a moment, the two stood in the rain, ignoring the world around them. Eventually, Ukraine pulled away, and stared into Canada's eyes again.

"I have to go. If I don't check in with Moscow soon, Russia will get suspicious." She said sadly.

Canada pulled her closer to him one final time.

"We'll have to stop communication for the next week or so. You leave the alley first."

Ukraine put the sunglasses back over her eyes and gave Canada a kiss on the cheek. Then, she reluctantly walked away, holding on to his hand as long as she could before she had to let go. Canada watched as she walked down the alley, and out of sight.

After a few moments, Canada himself exited the alley, and saw no traces of Ukraine, who had disappeared into the stormy night. Canada began to walk back to his hideout.

He had someone to talk to.

The next day

The American Embassy in Vienna.

Canada carefully squeezed through the crawlspace. The dusty and cramped space made it very difficult to move, but he tried to do so with as little sound as possible. Knocking away some cobwebs, Canada turned on his flashlight and looked at the blueprints he had with him.

"Okay," he thought to himself, "If these plans are correct, Al's office should be right around here. But how do I tell for sure?"

He suddenly noticed a strong smell.

"What the heck is that?" Canada thought. He sniffed again, "Fried meat, cheese and bacon. I'm defiantly close."

He pressed his ear against one of the walls. There were muffled sounds and feminine voices, and what sounded like running water.

"Must be the ladies room." Canada thought. He pressed his ear against the opposite wall.

"Yeah England (snarf) don't worry, I've got occupation duty (munch munch) in the centre zone next month (urp), it's cool." America's voice came through crystal clear.

"Bingo." Canada thought.

He squeezed into one of the lower vents and slid his way down it. Eventually, he came upon a grate, and looking up he could see America, sitting at his desk.

"I'll talk to you later buddy." America said, before he hung up the phone. "Aw man. I'm out of burgers. Better call for some more."

As America sat, Canada began splicing into the outgoing phone line, attaching a transmitting device to it. He then placed a bug next to the vent grate and activated it.

"Oh hey, my shoe's untied!" America suddenly said.

Canada froze as America bent down and began to tie his shoe. Canada began sweating as America spent what felt like an eternity tying his shoelace.

"Nothing like a good triple knot!" America said, as he returned to whatever he was doing.

Canada breathed a sigh of relief before slipping down the vents, and out of the building.

A few days later.

Canada's apartment.

"... hmm I wonder what rhymes with orange?"

Canada listened closely to America, as he had for the past couple of days over the bug. By now, Canada was getting antsy.

"C'mon Al, just tell me where this ruskie is. I know you know!" he sighed.

Suddenly, over the bug he heard the phone ring. Canada flicked a switch on the large set of wireless equipment he had near him.

"Mister Jones?" A voice Canada didn't recognise said.  
>"Yeah, you got the America. What's up?" America said.<br>"I'm Agnet Winds from the CIA, is this line secure?"  
>"Totally man, there's no red flag wavers listening in."<p>

Canada chuckled a bit.

"Right... I need to speak with you about a operation we hope to perform in Vienna." The agent said.

Canada pumped his fist as he pulled out a sheet of paper.

"We have a Soviet General currently in Vienna. Apparently he's managed to defect from Moscow and is currently hiding out in an apartment somewhere in the French occupation zone. He wants to defect, and has a number of plans he feels we'd be interested in."

"Okay, so get him to come over, why are you asking me this?"  
>"So we have your permission to accept his defection?"<br>"Uh, yes."  
>"That's all we needed to know sir. Our agents will be arriving tomorrow morning at about nine, from the airport directly to the defector's hideout, then we'll bring him wherever he wants to go."<br>"Sure, totally do that. Awesome."

Canada switched off the equipment, with a thin smile.

The next morning

An apartment block in the French Zone of occupation.

From around the corner, Canada peeked around and watched the five agents as they walked up the steps into the building. Looking around, Canada made sure the coast was clear before he drew a Silenced Pistol. Calmly, he walked into the building, and was stopped by one of the agents.

"No one allowed in..." The Agent said, before Canada shot him square in the chest, the gun letting out no more than a soft "piff" when if fired. The agent fell to the floor, a read smear on his chest. Canada walked up the stair case carefully, keeping out of site of the other CIA agents. He followed them and stayed out of sight as they entered one of the rooms.

Canada listened in as best as he could.

"You're General Kulikov?" one of the agents said.  
>"That is correct. You've come to take me to America yes?" a Russian voice replied.<br>"That depends. We need to see those plans you've got for us."  
>"Of course, yes. They're right here, just let me get them."<p>

The conversation continued, as the Russian explained what the plans were.

Canada gently eased the door open, absent minded left slightly ajar and crept behind one of the agents.

Canada grabbed hold of him and quickly fired into the group of men. The CIA agents and the Russian were quickly shot to the ground. Canada then shot the man he was using for cover.

Letting the body drop to the floor, Canada walked calmly over to the Russian. He flipped him over, and took hold of the file folder. From the Cyrillic on the front, he knew it was marked top secret.

Then, from behind him he heard someone moaning. He turned and saw one of the CIA agents trying to reach for his gun.

"Those...plans... are..ours..." The agent gasped.  
>"No, they aren't." Canada replied before he shot the man in the head.<p>

Canada quickly left the building, his prize in hand.

A few nights later.

Canada sat in his surveillance room. He took a final drag from his cigarette before he rubbed the butt out in a nearby ashtray. He looked at his watch as he finished disassembling his Browning, its components now laid out on the table beside him.

His watch read 11:29. Canada picked up the chair and placed it by a window, moving his ashtray with him. He took a set of binoculars hanging on the wall, and loosened his necktie. He lit up another cigarette, placing the lighter on the table beside him, before he took a look at one of the larger windows at the building across from him. Through the binoculars, he could see the vague appearance of a bedroom, but it was quite dark.

"It's almost time." He thought, taking another thoughtful drag from his cigarette. Then, the light turned on, and a pair of feminine legs slid out into the frame made by the window. Canada reached over and placed the headphones attached to his equipment over his ears.

"Are you listening?" Ukraine's voice came into his ear. "Of course you are."

Ukraine stood up and turned her back to the window. She wore a light blue, very short house coat.

"Moscow is pleased." Ukraine said. "I delivered my copy of the plans to them on time. They're upset that General Kulikov was killed though. They much rather would have done it themselves."

Ukraine began to walk back and forth in front of the window.

"They don't suspect a thing. I don't know what you're going to do with your copy, but I'm sure it will be for the best."

Canada took a quick glance at the folder his weapon's components were sitting on, before looking back at Ukraine.

"It was nice being able to talk to you, face to face." Ukraine said, pausing for a moment. "This way we have now... I don't particularly enjoy it."

She turned her back again, and undid her housecoat.

"But, sometimes I do enjoy it. I don't know why. Maybe because you're so close, and yet so far away, giving me some sort of strange comfort."

Ukraine sat down on the bed. Canada saw that under her housecoat she wore a set of black lingerie, with a light blue trim.

"It's funny, isn't it? Just a few years ago our brothers were allies, fighting a war against a common enemy. Now, they hate each other just as much as they hated the Nazi's."

Ukraine leaned back, allowing Canada to see more of her figure.

"But, let's not talk about that... Oh! I'm wearing that housecoat you bought for me. It's nice, the silk feels wonderful after a long shower. Sometimes I don't wear anything under it, like a few days ago, after we met in that alley." Ukraine sighed. "I bet you'd love to see that, wouldn't you? But I shouldn't be such a tease."

Canada watched as Ukraine opened one of the drawers in her bed side table and took out a package of cigarettes and a lighter. She took one of the cigarettes out of the pack and lit it.

"You know, I don't normally smoke. It's such a filthy and disgusting habit." She said, after taking a drag, and exhaling the smoke. "But, they always remind me of you."

She took another long drag before placing it in a nearby ashtray.

"Sometimes I just light one up and let it sit. They're your brand you know, very hard to find on my side of the Iron Curtain. Russia just hates finding me with them. _Another symbol of the West's poisonous influence _he calls them_._ He'd much rather I be smoking a good state approved brand."

Ukraine leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and her head in her hands.

"I was thinking about a few days ago." She said. "It was raining, just like our first night together, do you remember?"

Ukraine stood up, and leaned against the window, her back to Canada.

"It was London, we'd just had dinner. I had the... oh what was it?" Ukraine paused in thought."Oh yes, the _Authentic English Spaghetti and meat balls_." She giggled. "It was so much food, I thought I'd burst! And what did you have... that's right, the fish and chips, coated in maple syrup, as usual."

Ukraine began to tap her fingers on the glass.

"Then, we walked back to the apartment Russia had given to me while I was working at Allied Command, it had begun raining, and by the time we arrived at my apartment, it was pouring out. You wanted to go, but I insisted you stay the night. We went up, I poured you a little of the scotch I had, and we sat on my sofa. You looked so handsome in your uniform, but I told you to at least take off your tunic. Then, I started to get ever so closer to you, and I was babbling, because I didn't know if I was coming on too strong, or not strong enough..."

She grabbed on to her arms, like a hug.

"But, it clearly was enough, because then you planted that kiss right on my lips. Then I knew I really was in love with you. Oh, we must have spend an hour, just sitting and kissing, holding each other... then I pulled you along to the bedroom, and, well... I'm certain you remember what happened next."

Ukraine rubbed out the cigarette before she turned and pressed up against the glass again, looking right at Canada.

"That was only a month or two before you had to go off to Sicily." Ukraine sat down on the carpet and sighed, looking over to Canada for a moment.

"Do you know what I miss most about our nights together? It was after we had finished, and I'd lie on top of you, you'd rub your hands on my stomach, and whisper sweet nothings into my ear. Or, I'd be on top and lying on my tummy, you'd reach around and start massaging my lower back, because you know how much it aches sometimes, while I'd just rest my head and listen to your heartbeat..."

She placed her hand on her breasts, and looked away from Canada.

"Then there were the times you'd rest _your_ head on me. I was your favourite pillow wasn't I? And I'd run my hands through your hair, while I listened to you sleep like a baby..."

She paused for a moment, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I miss it so much."

She paused again, stretching out her arms.

"Anyway, it's getting late. So I'm going to turn in. But first..."

Canada slowly watched as Ukraine slowly disrobed. She pressed her nude form up against the window again, and fogged up a small patch with her breath, before tracing a heart in it.

"Good night, moya lyubov." She said, with a wink and a blown kiss, before she closed the curtains and turned off the light.

The audio feed in Canada's headset went dead, and he turned off the equipment.

With a lungful sigh, he went back to his disassembled weapon, and picked up the phone. He dialled a number, before putting his feet up, and started cleaning his weapon.

The phone rang a few times, before a voice answered it.

"Is this super important?" America's voice said over the phone.  
>"What, no time for your beloved brother Al?" Canada replied.<br>"Oh, Matt! Sorry bro, I've ah... I've got a lot of stuff on my mind, really super busy."  
>"Super busy? When are you super busy?"<br>"Har har. I do lots of stuff, it's just... Matt, can you keep a secret?"  
>"Of course I can Al, what's up?"<br>"We had the red, right?"  
>"Mmm-hmm?"<br>"This Red General, says he wants to come over to the land of peace, democracy, baseball and apple-pie right?"  
>"Go on."<br>"He says he's got these plans or something, so we send some CIA guys to get him in Vienna, and next thing we know, they're all dead, the defectors dead, and the plans are nowhere to be found!"  
>"How do you know he even had these plans in the first place?"<br>"Well, I assumed he would."  
>"Sure. Well, I don't know what to say. We can discuss more over lunch tomorrow, after the UN session there might be people listening in."<br>"Yeah, I've got Washington, my boss and everyone breathing down my neck, but see ya tomorrow, I guess."  
>"Good night Al."<p>

Canada hung up the phone and dialled another number.

"Hello?" A voice said.  
>"Is this line secure?" Canada asked.<br>"Of course... I expect the operation was a success?"  
>"Operative Sparrow has delivered the original files to her superiors in Moscow. She says they know nothing."<br>"What about America?"  
>"He's just as clueless as the Reds. He doesn't suspect I had anything to do with it."<br>"Good. And you have the copies, correct?"  
>"They're right beside me. The complete location and probable flight path of any Soviet Aircraft that can deploy long range conventional or nuclear attacks anywhere in North America."<br>"I hope you can put this information to good use."  
>"Of course. With this, I'll be able to fully convince America that the Pinetree line, and the Mid-Canada line we've got planned is useless. We'll need to go further, and I'll be able to easily swing as much control over the new system I've got planned as I can, and secure my control of the Arctic."<br>"It really scares me when you get devious like this, do you know that?"  
>"It is quite out of character for me, isn't it?"<br>"And you don't feel bad about having to circumvent your brother like this?"  
>"Look, I love Al the way only a brother can, but he couldn't find his own ass with two hands and a map. I can see the way he wants to defend <em>himself<em> from nuclear attack."  
>"You mean by shooting down the nukes over you, right?"<br>"Exactly. I'd much rather the bombers go down over the Arctic Circle than on top of Winnipeg."  
>"Indeed. When are you going to present your little findings to him?"<br>"Probably in a week, after I get to hear him freak out over lunch at the UN tomorrow."  
>"Hmm, I just might join you two. I love to see that little idiot panic."<br>"Me too. Anyway, I'll be sure to give you a copy as soon as I can. See you tomorrow...

...England."

"_Duh dun dunt daahhhhhh...*_


End file.
